The first time I had Smoked Tri-Tip with Coffee Chili Rub, I was sitting on the wet deck of a small fishing boat in Morro Bay, three hours north of home. The owner of a tiny harbour-side place called Giovanni’s annex kitchen had walked the roast down to his cousin Manu, who was waiting on his boat with a battered kettle smoker bolted to the gunwale.
Manu was a fisherman who barbecued on the side. The boat smelled of bait, diesel, and oak smoke, in that order. He handed me a paper plate, two slices of beef fanned out, no fork.
A Counter in Morro Bay That Smelled Like Oak
I had driven up the coast on a slow Tuesday. The plan was oysters. The plan changed when I walked past a six-seat counter where a chalkboard said tri-tip, beans, salsa, bread, and nothing else.
The owner did not speak much. He pointed at the stool, asked if I ate beef, and pointed again at the door when I said yes. I followed him out and down the dock.
Manu was already pulling the roast off. The bark was nearly black. I almost said something. I am glad I did not.
What Manu Told Me About the Cut
Tri-tip is the triangular bottom sirloin. Manu kept calling it the Santa Maria cut, which it is. Before a Santa Maria Market butcher named Bob Schutz started roasting it whole in the 1950s, it usually got ground into hamburger or thrown into stew.
He also told me, with some patience, that what he was doing was not Santa Maria style in the strict sense. Real Santa Maria tri-tip is grilled hard and fast over red oak coals. Smoking it low and then searing it is a newer American thing, the kind of cook that took off when pellet grills started showing up on every back patio in the country.
The coffee in the rub does not make the meat taste like coffee, he said. It deepens the bitterness, balances the sugar, and turns the crust that dark. People see the colour and think it is burnt. It is not. It is caramelised.
Bringing the Recipe Back to My Kitchen
Back in my apartment kitchen, I wrote the rub down on the back of a gas receipt and pinned it to the fridge. It stayed there for two weeks before I tried it. I get the tri-tip from the butcher counter at the Mar Vista farmers market, because they trim the fat cap to about a quarter inch without me asking.
The coffee I use is whatever dark roast is open. I have tried it with espresso powder twice. Both worked. The ancho chili powder I keep in a small jar I refilled at a spice shop in Highland Park, and that one matters more than the coffee.
The first time I cooked it at home I rushed the rest. Twelve minutes feels long when you are hungry. The juice ran straight out onto the board and the slices were dry around the edges. I do not skip the rest anymore.
What I Used
- A 2.5 pound whole tri-tip roast, fat cap trimmed to about a quarter inch
- 2 tablespoons finely ground dark-roast coffee, or espresso powder in a pinch
- 1 tablespoon ancho chili powder, the better the brand the better the bark
- 1 tablespoon smoked paprika
- 1 tablespoon dark brown sugar, packed
- 1 tablespoon kosher salt, Diamond Crystal
- 2 teaspoons freshly cracked black pepper
- 2 teaspoons granulated garlic
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- Half a teaspoon of cayenne, more if you actually like heat
- 2 tablespoons avocado oil for the sear
- Three chunks of red oak, or post oak, hickory, or pecan
Where Most Home Cooks Mess Up Smoked Tri-Tip with Coffee Chili Rub
Two places, mostly. The first is the grain. Tri-tip has two muscle grains that run in different directions, meeting somewhere near the centre of the roast. If you slice the whole thing one way, half the slices come out chewy. Find the seam, cut the rested roast in half along it, then slice each half thin against its own grain.
The second is the sear. People pull the roast at 125 and then put it on a not-quite-hot-enough grate for four minutes a side. By the time the crust forms, the inside is grey. The pan or grill must be at 500 and lightly smoking before the meat touches it. Two to three minutes a side. No longer.
I cook it on a small Weber Smokey Mountain I keep on the balcony. The neighbour two doors down can always smell when I am doing this. She has started knocking. I have started making extra.
One Small Twist Worth Trying
If I am eating it that night with friends and want it a little softer on the palate, I cut the cayenne in half and add a teaspoon of cocoa powder to the rub. It rounds the coffee. It also turns the bark even darker, which feels impossible until you see it.
I tried this once with a chimichurri on the side and almost regret it. Not because it was bad. Because the rub is already doing so much work, the sauce just gets in the way. A spoonful of the rested juices is better.
If you want the full Santa Maria treatment, serve it with pinquito beans and a fresh tomato salsa, with grilled French bread brushed in butter. That is how Manu sent me back to my car, in a paper bag, with the beans in a yoghurt tub. I ate them in the parking lot before I even started the engine.
Cooking It on a Tuesday Night in LA
I made this last Tuesday, late. Smoked the roast on the balcony while I had a record playing inside, then seared it in the cast iron my mum gave me, the one with the chip on the lip. The kitchen window was open. The smoke pulled out toward the street.
Sliced thin and fanned on a warm platter with the juices spooned back over, this eats like a faster, juicier cousin of brisket. If you are taking a US road trip and looking for kid-friendly stops along the way, I keep a long list of those too, like these kid-friendly attractions in Phoenix for the desert stretch.
Manu would not call this his recipe. He would call it the boat version. I have made it eight or nine times now. It still tastes like that wet deck, even at home.
Smoked Tri-Tip With Coffee Chili Rub
Ingredients
Equipment
Method
- Pull the tri-tip from the fridge 45 minutes before cooking. Pat it completely dry with paper towels. Trim any thick fat down to about a quarter inch and remove the silver skin on the underside.
- In a small bowl, stir together the ground coffee, ancho chili powder, smoked paprika, brown sugar, kosher salt, black pepper, granulated garlic, cumin, and cayenne until evenly blended and lump-free.
- Coat the entire roast in a thin film of neutral oil so the rub sticks. Pour the rub over the meat and press it into every surface, including the edges. Let it sit at room temperature for 30 minutes while the smoker comes up to temperature.
- Set up your smoker for indirect heat at 225 F. Add the red oak chunks once the temperature is steady and you see thin blue smoke.
- Place the tri-tip fat side up directly on the grates, away from the heat source. Close the lid and smoke for 60 to 90 minutes, until the internal temperature in the thickest part reads 110 to 115 F for a medium-rare finish.
- While the meat finishes smoking, heat a cast-iron skillet or your grill's direct-heat zone to ripping hot, around 500 F. The pan should be lightly smoking.
- Transfer the roast to the hot skillet or grate. Sear hard, 2 to 3 minutes per side, including the thick edges, until a deep coffee-dark crust forms and the internal temperature reaches 125 F for medium-rare or 130 F for medium.
- Move the tri-tip to a cutting board with a juice groove and tent loosely with foil. Rest for a full 12 to 15 minutes; this step is non-negotiable.
- Find where the muscle fibers change direction near the center of the roast and cut the meat in half along that seam. Slice each half thinly, about a quarter inch thick, against its own grain.
- Fan the slices on a warm platter, spoon any rested juices back over the top, and sprinkle with a pinch of flaky salt before serving.